


Tres Leches

by JennaGill



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins, The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: Coworkers - Freeform, F/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 01:25:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9100384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JennaGill/pseuds/JennaGill
Summary: Peeta Mellark insists that coworker Katniss Everdeen try his sugary concoction.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [misshoneywell](https://archiveofourown.org/users/misshoneywell/gifts).



> Originally posted on June 8, 2016 as a birthday gift to MissHoneywell
> 
> After asking about plans for your special day, Jessa's cake of choice inspired me… and you don’t say ‘no’ to inspiration, much like you wouldn’t say ‘no’ to Peeta and his tres leches cake! Rated Explicit
> 
> Editing and pre-reading credits to @papofglencoe and @atetheredmind

 

 

“C’mon, Katniss,” wafts over the cubicle wall, followed by a sweet aroma. Her empty stomach rolls and protests.

“No, Peeta,” she huffs. “I don’t want any of your cake.”

“I can hear your stomach growling, and I added freshly grated cinnamon on top this time,” he teases.

She rolls her eyes and rubs her belly. He must have seen her dashing cinnamon in her cup at the lobby coffee bar.  _Damn_. Hopefully he doesn’t know she does it because it reminds her of him.

“I don’t want any, Peeta. No matter what you’ve added on top. Condensed milk is gross.”

“Don’t be so superior. Condensed milk happens to be delicious,” he intones. “And I crushed up real vanilla beans with the milks.”

“Now you’ve gone too far,” she throws over the wall at him, envisioning the satisfied smirk spreading across his freckled face. “Maybe if you used goat’s milk, I could handle it,” she starts as the sound of his rolling chair wheels cut her off and his bright smile appears around the corner, peace offering in hand.

He has plated a perfect square of cake oozing cream, piped with fluffy white whipped cream and dusted in cinnamon. The confection is even topped with a bright red maraschino cherry. Her stomach grumbles again for effect.

“I wouldn’t dream of altering the Mellark family recipe with goat’s milk. It would change the flavor altogether.”

“That’s how they make it in Turkey. They use milk from a cow, goat, and water buffalo. I looked it up.”

“Sounds like a good use of company time,” he says, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“No better than coaxing me to eat your cake.”

He places the plate in his lap, inadvertently drawing her gaze to his groin, and holds his hands up in defeat. “Touché. So let’s say I could get a good price on goat’s milk…where in Panem County would I get milk from a water buffalo?”

“I could give you the goat’s milk for free. My sister has one for an FFA scholarship.”

“Okay, but still…a water buffalo? That’s going to be downright impossible, Katniss. You’re being impossible. Just try your cake.”

She releases a deep sigh. “Every year you make me cake, and I refuse it. So that means that every year you end up giving it to our other coworkers. It’s Annie’s favorite day of the year.”

“This year is different though,” he begins. “I’ve been watching you, Katniss Everdeen. From the way your nose wrinkles at fruit cakes. And you scowl at chocolate lava explosions. And I’ve seen your face light up with creamy desserts. So I know you’ll love this year’s tribute to your birthday. Just give it a chance.”

“Kinda over the top, Mellark. A bit stalkerish, to be honest.”

“C’mon. We work next to each other, sit across from one another in meetings and lunches. I’ve just…noticed these little things.”

She blushes, thinking the same. She has noticed a photo of him and his two brothers in his cube. She has noticed the way he carries himself into a room and how he almost always puts her at ease. The way his work shirt stretches across his chest and the smattering of freckles across his face and forearms, especially when he rolls up his sleeves. She’s well aware of how he makes her feel when no one else is watching.

His voice drops two octaves. “Eat your cake.”

The turn in his tone sparks a different fire in her belly. “Or what, Mr. Mellark?”

“Or I’ll withhold your  _other_ gift,” he whispers.

Her knees quake at the thought. She scans the bullpen for anyone paying attention to them. Her edits can wait. Annie is buried in paperwork. Finnick is nowhere in sight.

She slips from her desk to the equipment room. She waits exactly 75 seconds until she can hear his telltale footfalls outside the door. She leans against the wide table in the middle of the room. He steps inside and discreetly locks the door, his eyes squinting behind his glasses to adjust to the low light in the room.

“You knew what you were doing out there, what kind of effect it has on me,” he says as he crosses the room to her.

“Yeah? What are you going to do about it?”

“First, you’re going to eat this cake, but you can’t use your hands.”

“No hands?”

“No hands.”

He pulls a fork from his pocket and slices the corner off the cake. “C’mon, open up.”

She opens her mouth obediently and clamps it shut just as the creamy cake brushes against her lips, sliding up into a sideways smile. She licks her lips, pulling the whipped cream into her mouth.

He frowns. “Just for that, no fork either.”

“It’s my birthday though,” she pouts.

He sets the plate down on the table behind her.

“I want you to place your palms on the table, bend over, and taste the cake.”

She stands, swivels her slender frame, and does as instructed. As she leans over the table to reach the cherry on top, his warm palms skim her legs through her dress.

“Whatever happens, don’t move your hands, don’t stop enjoying your cake,” he commands as he yanks her panties down, which are already damp in anticipation.

She takes her first tentative bite of the cake as he takes his first taste of her. The action startles and thrills her. She tries to look back to see him kneeling behind her but only manages to swipe her nose in the white fluff. The skirt of her dress hitched over her hips obstructs her view. She returns to the exquisite cake as he returns to her. His tongue swirling within her as she manages to swallow small bites of cake. She licks her lips of the creamy cake and moans as his fingers join his tongue, opening her up to him. The cool texture of the cake and the heat spreading from her apex pull her in opposite directions. The dual sensations battling within her, overloading her senses. She gasps into the cake.

He stands, and she immediately misses the warmth. “Is it good?”

“Mmmmmhmmm,” she purrs, gripping the table edge with her thumbs and bracing herself for more.

He pulls his throbbing cock from his pants and enters her swiftly. He stretches her and plummets into her warm depths. The force of his thrusts knock her into the table, silencing her moan with another mouthful of cake. He grasps her hips to hold her steady, and he resumes driving into her. She pitches forward for another bite of cake, and the change in angle has him nailing her favorite spot with every plunge.

“Stay there, Katniss,” he forces out through clenched teeth.

As much as she wants to disobey again and push back on him, it feels too good. All of her strength is focused on staying semi-upright and hinged across the table as he fills her again and again until she snaps. Her orgasm builds from low in her belly and tumbles through her, spreading out to her tired legs and white fists on the table.

“Oh shit, Katniss, that’s it,” he cries as he pumps in and out of her spasming walls. He holds her tightly to him, fusing their bodies together, as he empties his load into her.

She feels wobbly on her two legs. He catches himself from collapsing while his cock is still pulsating within her.

“Think I could get a bite of that cake now?” He says and kisses her neck. He withdraws from her and tucks himself back into his pants.

“There’s not much left. I feel like it’s all over my face,” she replies and turns towards him again.

“Oh, it is,” he says as he leans in. He kisses and licks the stray cake bits that were smashed to her face during their frenzied coupling. He thinks back to the first time happy hour with coworkers led to an intimate dinner and then nightcaps back at her place. Four orgasms later, he knew he was a goner for this girl. It’s been over a year, and yet they continue this game in the workplace.

“People are going to suspect something if you keep up with that ‘noticing’ talk from earlier,” she warns him after all traces of cake have been cleaned from her face.

He snorts. “Katniss, everyone knows how I feel about you. You’re the mystery here.”

“Well, then it’s all the better. You know Heavensbee would find a way to fire one of us if he knew.”

“But how much longer will we be able to keep up this daytime friends/nighttime lovers charade? We’re already bending our own rules.”

“It’s my birthday. The rules don’t apply today.”

“That is true. It’ll be a special day, all day and all night long. I didn’t even have time to kiss you properly.”

“So this was just a snack for now….and we’ll feast later?”

“Precisely. Your lips, your tits, your tight pussy, everything.”

“Hmmm, I can’t wait.”

He pulls her panties back up her legs and snaps them across her heated skin. She straightens out her dress before stealing away to the bathroom to compose herself.

She’s barely sat back down at her desk when Annie appears at her cubicle wall.

“You two aren’t fooling anyone,” Annie says, forking through a generous helping of Katniss’s tres leches cake.

 

 

 

 


End file.
